


Fears, Insomnia, White Wine, and Hugs

by unfortunately_i_love_it



Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Oh also, Self Confidence Issues, a bit OOC, absolute fucking abuse of italics, i guess, might add some tags later if i think of anything else, not my forte, tagging, teen and up because of swearing, uhhh FUCK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:41:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unfortunately_i_love_it/pseuds/unfortunately_i_love_it
Summary: No. No, he can’t. He can’t. This... This is already so stupid. So stupid of his thoughts and so stupid of him for letting the thoughts get to him like this. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong because there was nothing wrong. It was fine. He was fine. He’s just overreacting. He’s just being stupid. He’s just being-“-pathetic.”Or: Vanessa comforts Finral after a rough bout of un-gucci thoughts following a rough battle.
Relationships: Vanessa Enoteca & Finral Roulacase
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Fears, Insomnia, White Wine, and Hugs

The moon hung high in the sky. Its silver light filtered in through the windows of the Black Bull’s base to shine onto Noelle’s equally silver hair, who was peacefully asleep and dreaming. Her dreams were - to her annoyance - filled with Asta (more like Stupidsta). Said boy was currently in his room, starfished out on his bed and sleeping like the dead, exhausted after the mission and his training with Luck. The latter one was too, asleep. A gentle smile pulled at his lips, a stark difference to his usual, manic grin. 

And Finral?

Finral was still very much awake.

He laid in his bed, blankets drawn up to his nose. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t fall asleep. He kept tossing and turning. Too wired, too distressed, too _scared_ to sleep. His head was too loud, his mind too restless. No matter how hard he fought it, no matter how many times he told himself to just _relax_ , no matter how many times he tried to count those darn sheep, his mind just kept drifting back. Back to that one single train of thought that just _wouldn’t_ let him rest. 

He kept thinking about today, and today’s mission. 

He kept thinking about how they almost died. They almost died because he _almost_ wasn’t fast enough at opening up a portal when that freak shot a massive energy beam their way. He did do it in the end, at the last second. But if he was just a second too late, if he had hesitated, if he had ran out of mana, they all would have died. It’s stupid, he knows that, to keep thinking about it. Everything turned out _okay_. Asta knocked the freak out with his sword. Everyone congratulated him on a job well-done. Captain Yami personally praised him for his fast thinking and reflexes. Every one of his teammates is safe and well and _alive_ and he should really just go to sleep now but he just... couldn’t. He kept thinking about it. How they almost died. How he almost let his teammates die. How he almost let his _f_ _riends_ die, because he was weak. He was always just so... _weak_. His mother, his father - hell, even his brother said he was - so that must mean it’s true, right? No matter how much he tries, it’s never enough. _He’s_ never enough. Never good enough. Never strong enough. _Nothing_ about him is ever enough. 

At his thoughts, Finral felt his chest tighten, his heart clench, shooting out pain that felt like lightning and not at the same time throughout his whole body. Like lightning (Luck.), it seized his body in an instant. Like lightning (He almost let Luck die today.), it made his head, his fingers, buzz. Like lightning (How could Luck still consider him his teammate, let alone _f_ _riend_ after what he’d done?), it locked him in place, left to agonize in solitude and silence (Gordon. Gordon almost died today because of him.), unable to move or speak. But, unlike lightning - which was hot and scorching and burning (Like Magna’s magic. He almost let him die too. How could he let it get to that?) - this pain was cold. Cold like icy water (Noelle. He almost let a _kid_ die. He really was the worst.), seeping into his everything, chilling him to the bone, eating away (Charmy, too. Dammit, dammit, dammit!) at any warmth that he might have had left.

He sat up, blankets pooling at his waist. His hand was clutching at his chest, over his heart, the central point of all this agonizing pain. He wanted it to _stop_. It hurt. It hurt so much. He knows the possibilities. He’s been imagining and reimagining them even before they got back to the base from that fight. He know’s what would have happed if he screwed up. He knows, dammit! There’s no use in reminding him. There’s no use in the icy electrify that’s flooding his veins, other than the fact that he probably deserves it. Everything turned out fine, but he still deserves it. Still deserves the warning brushes of what it would feel like when he _really does_ royally screw up. But it still hurts. Tears are starting to stream down his face because _god, it hurts so much,_ because it does, it really does. And when it feels like he won’t be able to handle the pain anymore, when it feels like he’s about to loose a battle that he was never meant to win-

The pain changes.

It changes (Like Gray. God, she looked so terrified when the beam shot out towards them. She looked _so absolutely terrified_ as she saw death rushing towards her. And she _could_ have died. And it would’ve been _his_ fault.), and now it hurts in a completely different way. Instead of lightning paralyzing his movements, there was string (Vanessa.). Thin but absurdly strong string (She trusted him, and he could have let that trust go to waste. He could have _killed_ her.) roping around his neck, squeezing his throat, taking his air, _choking_ him. It was hard to breathe now. Instead of cold seeping into his very being, there was this stubborn (Asta. Another _kid_. He was his senior, dammit! And seniors don’t kill the people that are supposed to look up to them.) sort of ache in his lungs, air seemingly disappearing from his chest. Each breath felt like agony, mirroring (Gauche. Another person he could have killed. Another person that would have died because of his inadequacy.) yet still diverging from the chilling lightning that bled through his veins juts a moment ago. Now, instead of being cold, the lighting burned. It danced in his lungs and it _burned_. It burned so hot and fierce (Like the reflection of the magic beam did in his Captain’s dark eyes. _He almost killed Captain Yami_. How could he ever forgive himself _t_ _hat_?) it was a wonder that he didn’t cough up smoke, that his lungs didn’t melt, that his chest didn’t go up in flames. 

Finral stood up, kicking the blankets off completely, not caring as they fell to the floor. Because he needed a distraction. He needed something to distract him form that agonizing pain, to distract him from what could have been if he didn’t open up the portal in time, to distract him from the excruciating image of his teammates, his _friends_ lying on the ground in bloody puddles, unmoving, unresponsive, eyes dull and distant and unfocused and their bodies so so cold to the touch as he shook them because _no, this couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t, he knows they’re alive, he knows-_ , or even worse, the blast just completely annihilating them, not leaving a single trace that they were ever even there, that they fought and made friends and lived and cried and made up and loved and cared and _existed_ and now there’s nothing left of them and it’s fully, completely, his fault because _he_ was the one that let this happen, _he_ was the one that let them die, _he was the one that killed them_ -

Shaking his head in a vain attempt to shake off his torturous thoughts, Finral stumbled to the side, catching himself with his forearm pressed against the wall near the door. He stood there, head hanging low, breath ragged, and bangs covering the twin streams of silent tears rolling down his face, his neck, then falling to the floor in tiny droplets. He stayed like this for a couple of seconds or minutes or hours, he didn’t really know how long and he didn’t really care to know. All that he really knew is that it felt like an eternity. An eternity of shameful, _shameful_ tears as he stood there. 

Barren.

Vulnerable.

_Weak_. 

He _needs_ a distraction.

He’s reaching for the door now, trying to blindly grasp the doorknob. It takes some time (he doesn’t really know how much time because everything in his head just feels too muddled and sharp at the same time to really think about that), but he finally grasps the handle and is already undoing the lock that is near it and then he’s almost pushing open the door-

When he hesitates.

Because as much as he wants a distraction, as much as he _needs_ a distraction, he doesn’t want to risk bumping into someone in the hallway. 

He doesn’t want his teammates to see him like this.

He _can’t allow_ his teammates to see him like this. 

Because when they see how weak, how pathetic, how cowardly, incompetent, and absolutely _useless_ he really is, they’ll surely throw him out. Because someone like that doesn’t _deserve_ to be a magic knight. They’ll throw him out and he’s not ready. Not ready to lose the only people who ever really cared for him even the slightest bit. He knows the time will come when they find out, and then they’d throw him out, but he’s not ready yet. He wants to enjoy the nice feeling of being _wanted_ , of being _needed_ – even if it is just as a means of transportation – a little longer. 

So he locks the door again.

Standing up straight, but still using the wall for support, Finral rubs at his eyes. The tears have, thankfully, slowed down, and after some time (it doesn’t feel like as much time as before), he looks passable. His eyes are rimmed red and the skin on his cheeks is splotchy, but on the off-chance that he does run into someone, he could always hide under his bangs. 

He finally lets go of the wall, and opens up a portal into the kitchen. He’s still not tired. His head still too full of thoughts, although they did calm down a bit. But a bit is not enough. So, after another moment of checking his appearance, he’s stepping out of the portal, hoping that maybe a glass of warm milk will help his situation. 

* * *

The kitchen is dark, with some sections of it illuminated by the moonlight streaming in trough the windows. There’s a pile of empty dishes on a nearby table (Charmy must have already finished her midnight snack) and a couple of stray cups on the counters. Carefully making his way through the room and trying not to run into something in the dark, Finral stumbles to where the milk is stored and looks inside-

-only to find all of it missing. Charmy must have finished up the last of it today. Fantastic. 

He’ll need a different approach, then. Maybe he could get lucky and snatch one of Vanessa’s unfinished wine bottles? 

If he couldn’t coax his mind to calm down with milk, he’ll _force it to_ with alcohol. 

Turning away from the empty milk canister, he opened up another portal, not wanting to risk waking up his teammates stumbling through the dark kitchen, looking for an exit. 

Stepping through, he found himself in an equally dark common room. 

Just like the kitchen, it was moonlit, with the soft light spilling in through the windows high up on the castle’s walls. Within seconds, he found Vanessa, predictably passed out on one of the couches and surrounded by bottles. 

Carefully, Finral stalked towards her. He was crouching slightly, taking slow and cautious steps as he tried to see his way in the partial blackness of the room. He kept his breathing light, making an effort to make as little sound as possible. He crept forwards, trying to see if any of the bottles still had anything in them. But, with how dark the room was, he had no such luck. 

So he pressed onwards, quietly. 

A few more steps, and he was standing right in front of the couch on which Vanessa was happily asleep ~~oh how he wished he could do tha~~ t, her face relaxed. Giving a quiet sigh - he needed to be really quiet now, he couldn’t remember if Vanessa was a light sleeper or not -, he crouched down and started looking at the alcohol bottles stacked all around her. 

Looking at the outer band of bottles, he could already see that they were all empty. ~~Darn, was the universe screwing with him for fun at this point?~~ He reached for one of the bottles in the middle of the clump and took it by the neck. Gingerly, he lifted it up, shaking it around slightly to see if there was anything left inside. 

No luck.

So he put it back, being careful not to clank it with the other bottles around it, and moved on to a different one. He took it out, swirled it around, but again- no such luck. Putting it back, he repeated the process a few more times. No luck. 

~~What the hell? One of these _has_ to be at least half-full!~~

Reaching out again, Finral piked up another bottle that stood under the armrest and- bingo. This one had plenty in it. 

Bringing the bottle closer to him, he popped the cork, taking a small sip. White wine. Ehh, not really what he was hoping for, but it should do the trick. Last time he checked, he wasn’t exactly much of a heavyweight, so yeah, it’d do just fine.

Finral closed the bottle back up and stood up as quietly as possible, hugging it to his chest, and turned around. Now he’s just gonna open up a portal to his room and-

“Finral?”

Shit.

He heard the creaking and shifting of couch cushions from behind him. “What’re you doin’ here?”

Fu-

“Uhm,” he started, frozen in place. He tried his best to subtly hug the bottle closer to him, hoping she didn’t see it. “I’m, uh, nothing, really,” ~~Yeah good job idiot, that didn’t sound suspicious at all~~. 

“You sure?” He heard shifting and shuffling, and then the ‘click, click’ of heels on tile. Vanessa must have sat up.

“Yeah, I, uh,” Shit, he was alway bad with coming up with lies on the spot. “I’m- I couldn’t sleep so I came down to get something to,” ‘drink’? No, he couldn’t say that. Too suspicious. “To find some milk or something. To drink.” Why did he- okay never mind that, he has bigger fish to fry. “And then I noticed you on the couch and-“

“Oh?” He heard more shifting, and now he could see Vanessa. She was leaning over a bit, trying to get him to look at her, “Did you find any?” 

“Huh?” He didn’t dare turn around, but did move his head to look at her. 

“Milk, did you find any?” She repeated, looking at him. Thankfully it was dark enough for her not to notice the redness in his eyes. She brought her hands up to her temples, massaging them lightly. “Cuz I think I could use some, too. This hangover is killing meeeee.”

“Oh. No,” he answered, “Sorry. It seems Charmy got to it first this night.”

“Aww, dang.” Vanessa shifted her hands, cradling her head in them. “You think she went for the well, too?”

“Hopefully not,” he smiled. A little, forced thing. Nothing like his actual one, but in this lighting Vanessa wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. 

He needed to get out. The thoughts from before were still swirling around in his mind like a tornado, coming closer and closer to destroying his fake calm with each second.

“Well, I’m gonna-“

“Hey, Finral,” Vanessa spoke up again, “wanna camp out here with me for a bit?” 

He would if he wasn’t in danger of having an emotional breakdown.

~~God, that sounds pathetic.~~

He heard some shuffling, and then Vanessa was leaning over the armrest, reaching for something on the coffee table next to it. “I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep any time soon.” She said as she sat back, holding up a candle and a box of matches.

This was kinda bad. 

“Actually,” He has to hightail it out of here before Vanessa could see what a mess he really is, “I was just about to head back up-”

“Hm? Why?” He heard a ‘ _fwoosh_ ’ and suddenly an orange light spilt out from behind him. 

Scratch that. This was bad. 

“Finral, what’s up with your- were you crying?”

Double scratch that, this was _very_ bad. 

“Uh, no.” Crap, he forgot he was still looking at her. He hugged the wine bottle tighter to his chest. “Are you sure you’re not seeing things?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Finral what happened?”

“Nothing happened.” Technically, that was the truth. He took a step away from the couch, “That’s why I _wasn’t_ crying, and it’s also why, right now, I’m gonna head up to my room.” 

“Wait, Finral, hold on-“

Opening up a portal, Finral lifted his foot to step through it, hugging his bottle of wine so tight to his chest that he was afraid it might break. He knows that running away like this isn’t the smartest, and it _definitely_ isn’t the best way to end that convo without raising even more suspicions, but he doesn’t care.

~~After all, running away is what a coward’s best at~~.

He was halfway to escape, one foot through the portal, when he felt a hand grip at the back of his shirt.

Wh-

A couple of strings joined the hand, looping around his torso and upper arms, and before he could register it happening, he was being pulled backwards, away from the portal and back into the common room. The force of the pull made him stumble-

-right into a concerned-looking Vanessa.

“Finral, what’s that?”

The universe was totally screwing with him for fun.

“What’s what?”

“Don’t be a smart-ass. What’s that you’re holding?”

“A bottle.”

“I can see that,” she huffed, spinning him around to face her. Finral tugged the bottle even closer to himself, hunching over to try to conceal it as much as possible while simultaneously turning his head to the side, avoiding eye contact. 

“Okay, so?” He asked, still playing dumb. 

“’So?’ Finral, what’s in the bottle?” 

“Uh.” Shit. He readied himself, gathering up the mana needed to summon a portal. “Nothing important,” opening up the portal behind him, he tried to step into it. But Vanessa’s grip didn’t yield and more strings joined the ones already looped around him. 

“Then why won’t you tell me what it is?” 

“Uhm.” Because he didn’t want her asking any more questions. Because he didn’t want to tell her why he was wide awake in the middle of the night in the first place (especially after the day they’ve had). Because he didn’t want her to know that he spent the whole half of this night worrying over something stupid. Because he didn’t want to be a burden. Because this was just his brain being dumb and it was his responsibility to shut it up. Because this whole thing was stupid from the start. Because, again, today (yesterday?) is already done and over with and he shouldn’t be worrying so much about it. Because... Because he keeps remembering that fight and what _could’ve happened-_ But it didn’t and it wouldn’t have, because his squad is strong and they probably would have survived that blast even without him there to open up that portal, meaning that he’s overall useless to the Bulls because he can’t fight, he doesn’t have a lot of mana, he’s a _coward_ , he’s- 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Finral felt a gentle hand cupping one side of his face, thumb wiping away the tears that were now streaming down once again ~~When had he started crying?~~. The hand slid down to cup his chin, gently tugging, urging Finral to turn his head. And when Vanessa’s face drifted into his vision, blurry from the tears he’s still yet to curb, a second hand came up to join the first, just as gentle, as they cradled his face like he was something fragile. Something _important_.

Fragile? Probably. 

Important?

No way in hell. 

“Oh, Finral...” Vanessa’s voice – like her hands – was soft, gentle, full of concern and had this... saddened note to it, as she continued to wipe at his tears with her thumbs. “C’mon, hun, look at me.” 

He didn’t look up.

“Finral, I know you’re upset by something, and I really wanna help you out here. So, please, look at me.” 

His eyes stayed glued to the ground.

“Okay,” She sighed, her blurry form sagging the tiniest bit. ~~She’s mad. She’s mad. Oh no, no, nononono-~~ “Okay, if you don’t want to look at me – that’s okay.” Another swipe of her thumbs and, for a second, he saw her face; also gentle, also soft, also concerned.

~~He didn’t deserve it.~~

“Just...” She sighed again ~~Was it really ‘okay?’ She’s sighing too much. Sighing is not good. Sighing means he’s done something bad.~~ “Finral, please, tell me what’s wrong.” 

No. No, he can’t. He _can’t_. This... This is already so _stupid_. So stupid of his thoughts and so stupid of _him_ for letting the thoughts get to him like this. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong. He couldn’t tell her what was wrong because _there was nothing wrong_. It was fine. He was fine. He’s just overreacting. He’s just being stupid. He’s just being-

“-pathetic.”

“What?” She leaned down slightly, trying to look him in the eyes. But he just hunched further into himself. “Finral, what did you say? I didn’t quite catch that.”

~~Oh you just _had_ to go ahead and say that out loud, didn’t you, you fucking idiot?~~

“I uh...” What should he tell her? What _could_ he tell her? He can’t tell her anything, lest she sees how _fucking stupid_ this is – how fucking stupid _he_ is – and leaves. Or worse, _she_ doesn’t leave, but _he_ does – which is the most likely outcome. He doesn’t _want_ to leave, though. He doesn’t want to leave the Bulls. Because... Because, if he does, then where else is he supposed to go? House Vaude doesn’t want him, and if the Black Bulls don’t want him either then he has... nothing. Nowhere. _No-one_. “I-I’m....” But does it matter what he wants? Does it _really_ matter? No, it doesn’t. No matter how hard he wants or doesn’t want something, the fact of the matter will always catch up to him. He can’t avoid the truth. He can’t just continuously run away, not looking back. Even cowards trip. Even cowards stop running in the end. Delaying the inevitable doesn’t change things, it just make them worse. So maybe this is the time for him to finally stop running. To finally accept his place in the world and make peace with the fact that no matter how much he wants and no matter how hard he tries, it doesn’t really matter in the end. 

“I’m... pathetic.” He loosened his grip on the bottle of wine he’s been so desperately trying to conceal minutes prior and let it hang loosely from his hand as he held it by the neck. There as no use hiding it anymore. 

“Wha-“ Vanessa’s eyes, widening a fraction, searched his face as she bent down even lower to try and catch his gaze. He allowed it. He wasn’t hiding anymore. It would be easier this way. “Finral, hun, no, you’re not.”

“But I am.” He held her gaze – eyes tired and heart feeling so empty and full at the same time – straightening up from his hunched over position, slightly leaning into her palms, trying to sponge up the last bit of comfort he’ll probably ever have. 

“Finral-“ Her hands fell away from his face all too soon and made to clasp at his shoulders but he stepped away. 

Yeah, he was done running.

“I _am_ pathetic,” he looked her in the eye as he said it, “because this whole _t_ _hing_ is pathetic and _so darn stupid_. The mission is _over_ , it’s _done_ , everyone is _fine_ , and the only one overreacting,” He jabbed a finger into the center of his chest, “is _me_. Sure, the dude almost fucking annihilated us, and, sure, I opened up that portal, but if I didn’t, nothing would have changed. Yami could’ve just sliced through that blast. Or you could have used your cat thing. Or, hell, Asta could’ve just deflected it with his sword or something. So, my reason for staying awake the whole damn night is stupid, too. It’s so stupid but I can’t stop thinking about it. You all could have died and...” He looked down at his feet, trying to find the right words that would properly convey the absolute _mess_ that was his head, “and I just...” He tried to look back up at Vanessa, tried to stay strong, but he couldn’t ~~god, you’re so fucking _weak_~~ , “it was such a close call but at the same time it _wasn’t_ because anyone could have stepped up and done the same, but... it’s... I’m...” Why was talking so _difficult_ all of a sudden? It never was a problem when he tried talking with the Bulls during the day, ~~annoying the hell out of them~~ , so why was it a problem _now_? “I-I can’t get over it. And I know it’s pathetic and I _hate_ it. I _hate_ that I’m so weak and useless and such a... such a _coward_. And I-I know you all know that, and while I appreciate you all – especially you, Vanessa – being so nice and kind, I know you’re gonna get tired and... and frustrated, with me, eventually. J-Just like father and mother and... and Langris did. You don’t want me and I need to _accept_ that, but I- I-I don’t want to, and I know that’s so _selfish_ of me. There could be someone so much _better_ in this squad right now if I could just... accept. If I just wasn’t here. If I’d never left Tota. If I, If, I-I’m-“

Something slammed into him.

Something soft, warm, and very Vanessa-shaped. 

She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged him. Tight. _Very tight._ ~~man, was she strong.~~

It was nice.

“...You idiot.”

Huh?

“You’re... I...” She shifted against him, bringing her face up to look him in the eyes, “we _do_ want you, Finral. Sure, sometimes you might be a bit too annoying or frustrating or over-the-top, but that’s... we’re all like that. We all get on each other’s nerves from time to time. But we apologize, we make it right in the end, and we make it _work_. I-“ She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder, “You’re like family to me, Finral. Like a little brother that I never had. And... and it hurts me to see you like this. And it’s- I don’t wanna guilt you into making yourself better – lord knows you’ve already guilted yourself enough on your own – I just. I want to help, Finral.” 

Looking up again, she loosened her hug a bit so that she could properly look at him, “And this... this – I don’t know what to call it – this way that you’re feeling – it’s not stupid. It’s not pathetic. It’s not selfish. It’s _human_.” 

She paused, making sure that he was looking at her too.

“You’re allowed to be human, Finral.”

He felt the first sob before it even left his mouth. Felt the lump in his throat. Felt the new wave of tears rearing their head, waiting to appear and carve new valleys of clear, salty rivers into his cheeks. 

And Vanessa just hugged him closer, hand coming up to stroke his hair, gentle fingers weaving in and out of long, dirty blond locks as he cried into her shoulder. Sometimes, she’d let out a soft “There, there.” But, other than that, the quiet sounds of his crying and the barely there whisper of the lit candle were the only things that penetrated the nightly silence of the Black Bull’s base.

His base. 

At which he was allowed to stay. 

Because he was wanted here. 

_Actually wanted here._

~~He was willing to believe it. Vanessa would never lie about something like this, he knew that~~.

A few minutes – maybe 5, maybe 10, hell, maybe even 20 – passed like this before he started to calm down – his breathing evening out, waterfall-like tears slowing down to gentle streams, and sobs being replaced by the occasional hiccup. 

For a few more minutes, silence stretched as they stood there, with Vanessa continuing to hold him close to her, her hands still carding through his hair. Finral felt content and... and relieved. Of course, his fears and doubts and worries didn’t go away just like that, and the ones that did would not stay away forever, either. But this was nice. _Very_ nice, if he was being honest. It was so nice, in fact, that he didn’t want to leave. But he’d have to, right? What with getting enough sleep and all, but... maybe if he could just-

“So, my offer still stands,” Vanessa suddenly said, hand still in his hair as she twirled a dirty blond lock around her finger, letting it fall back to his head when it unwhirled itself.

“What?” Finral finally brought his face back up from where it was smooshed into her shoulder, confused.

What the hell is she talking about?

“Wanna camp out here?”

Ah.

“Yeah.”

“Get the blankets?” She let go of him, rather deciding to go and round up all the pillows in the common room.

“On it, ma’am.” He let out a soft sniff and put the bottle of wine down on a nearby table ~~how he managed to hold on to it throughout that whole ordeal was beyond him~~.. Gathering up some mana, Finral opened up a little portal into his room, pulling some blankets through.

“Noooooo, don’t call me ‘ma’am’,” Vanessa moaned, slumping onto a couch. The couch that was already piled with pillows, “makes me feel sooooo ooooold.”

“What are you taking about, you’re ancient.” He retorted, walking over and dumping his pile of blankets onto her as a small smile pulled at his lips. A _real one_ this time. “Move.” 

“Hey, there, watch yourself loverboy.” She sifted over, freeing up space for him to nestle into.

“What was _that_? Your insult game is lacking.”

“Nope, not lacking.” She pulled him into another hug when he finally decided to sit down, “Tonight is just a special case of obstinacy, because I hereby declare this ‘No Insulting Finral, Instead Give Him Hugs And Appreciation’ night.”

He leaned into her, “That’s sweet.” 

“Thanks, I try.” She brought up a hand and started combing through his hair again, playing with the separate locks.

“Hey, Vanessa?”

“Yeah?”

“...Thanks.”

“No problem.” She just hugged him tighter and they fell asleep just like that. 

* * *

As the sun rose, and the gloomy, nightly atmosphere of the Black Bull’s base gave way to orange, early-morning light and birdsongs, Finral awoke to find himself nose-deep in soft, pink hair. Squinting against the blinding light as it shone down on him, magnifying in ferocity once it passed through the glass of the castle’s windows, he couldn’t help but give a soft smile.

It felt nice being wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaa thank god this thing is finally finished, its been sitting on my laptop for the past like,,,,, year. nevertheless, i kinda like how it turned out even though Finral and Vanessa both sound kinda ooc to me,,,, whatever. 
> 
> also, i'm gonna be taking prompts, so if ya'll want something written you could just type it up in the comments here or shoot me a message on tumblr or something (unfortunately-i-love-it). Though, i probably wont't be able to actually start on them until the end of next week, so,,,,


End file.
